


In All Good Things

by EatingDirtForFunandProfit



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Actor AU, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Depressed Victor Nikiforov, Fluff, M/M, Miscommunication, Slow Burn, Theatre Kids, Unreliable Narrator, backstage shenanigans, everyone is very Extra, hopefully you dont need to have seen it to enjoy the fic., i kinda characterized them like they are in the anime?? so some lines sound pretty dramatic, more characters and tags to be added as fic progresses, stage manager phichit, theyre doing much ado about nothing, way too many shakespeare references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-11-06 17:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11041053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EatingDirtForFunandProfit/pseuds/EatingDirtForFunandProfit
Summary: "Yuuri Katsuki will be playing..." He felt tears grow behind his eye lids. Did he really have to say it out loud? Maybe he'd get thrown a bone in the form of a non speaking role, or even a couple of lines, but it was still embarrassing to hear- "Beatrice!"/what. WHAT./ Yuuris head snapped up, trying to find the punch line, the joke, but Viktor just beamed down at him with that blinding smile. Otabek was clapping, Yuri was practically screaming, but all he could hear was his own heartbeat, as Viktor leaned in to help Yuuri out of his chair. "I guess we'd better get to know each other, right, Yuuri?" This was it. He could feel his soul leaving his body. Katsuki Yuuri died in the lobby of a blackbox theatre, with half a granola bar in a white knuckled grip, and Viktor Nikiforovs hand in the other.Yuuri tries out for a modest role in a play his idol is directing and staring in, and gets in way over his head when Viktor asks him to play the romantic lead. Can he really deal with playfully insulting his crush on stage when he can't even talk to him properly?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Welcome to... whatever I'm doing here. Its the first fic I've posted here, so I'm sorry if I mess up the layout. I originally wrote this on my phone, and I don't have a beta, so there may be a few errors. My good friend N, who is pretty much the best, got me talking about theater kid!Viktor on discord and... well. Here we are. I couldn't resist throwing in some shakespeare, honestly I love Much Ado with all of my heart so I had lots of fun writing this. Hopefully its enjoyable if you don't know the plot of the play, but if you do you might get a little more subtext for why I have them playing the roles I do. Basically its just an excuse for me to make eros/agape parallels ._.' 
> 
> Comments and kudos mean the world to me! I hope you enjoy :>

Yuuri Katsuki grew up watching Viktor. They were only a few years off, but it always felt like a race to catch up. Viktor got every role he wanted. And he always deserved them. Something about being on stage just looked natural to him, like he didn't even have to think. It was useless trying to hate him for it. It wasn't like he knew that the quiet, stuttering stage hand had tried out for every show, had prayed for a chance to walk the boards like he did. Yuuri knew he could do it. He played understudy, learning lines and queues and blocking. He practiced them in his room, mouthed lines at the mirror, imagining the inflections on each consonant just like they should be. A very, very small part of him was convinced he could do it even better than the rest of the cast, but he never really had a chance to prove it. Until now. 

Some how, he had made it to the final cut. For their production of Much Ado About Nothing, Viktor had finally been allowed to direct, as well as star. He had already practically confirmed for Benedict. It was a change for him, he usually stuck to smooth, dramatic characters, but he loved nothing more than shocking the audience. Yuuri knew that by now. The set team had nearly had a heart attack when he told them to add LED fairy lights into an already built cardboard backdrop, but during the first dress rehearsal, even the actors were spellbound. The stage felt magical, like another dimension. Since then, the cast and crew tended to listen to him with only mild complaining.

In true Nikiforov fashion, even the casting was non traditional. Phichit had convinced him last minute to put his name down for one of the background romantic leads, Hero. A sweet, tragic character, it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to act shy on stage. Besides, Viktor had seemed so exited to cast male actors as Hero and Beatrice. And as soon as Phichit hears the words "gay" and "shakespere", he had half of Yuuris number already dialed. The fact that Yuuris crush was directing? Just bonus.  
Yuuri was one of the last candidates for Hero. Instead of making the decision on just one audition alone, Viktor was holding several, doing read throughs of the script, and even some tentative blocking, with various combinations until he found the perfect actor for each role. Today was one of the last. 

Yuuri took a deep breath, before taking a seat just outside the black box. His script was clutched tightly in his hands, dog eared already. He had done his best to keep it tidy, but his habit of nervously flicking through the pages had already worn down the corners. He did it now, reflexively jiggling his leg. Why was he even here? It was going to be the smallest read through yet, only four people, the romantic leads. What if whoever got Claudio couldn't stand him? What if /Viktor/ couldn't stand him? What if-  
"You're here early."  
He looked up. A serious looking boy with dark hair stood in the entrance. He vaguely recognized him from the other rehearsals as Otabek Altin, one of the actors trying out for Claudio (Even though he had initially been there for Don Jon, he switched his primary role last minute. Apparently someone convinced him.) Yuuri nodded, relaxing a little. Otabek wasn't that bad. A little serious, but at least he wouldn't make to many jokes if he messed up. The person that elbowed past him, however, made his nerves come back full force. "Only by like, two minutes, Beka. Katsudons as bad as Viktor. He practically sleeps here." Yuri Plisetsky walked straight past the chairs and slammed one foot into the door of the blackbox, hard. "Hey! Old man! I know you're in there. Your stupid cars out front. We're all here, open up!" They couldn't all be there already, could they? None of the Benedicts had shown up. Unless... the door swung open as Yuri went for another kick, causing him to stomp on the floor instead. "Yuri!" Said a cheerful voice. "Good morning!" Yuri looked like he was about to explode. "It's almost noon, asshole!" Yuuri almost laughed as an elegant hand patted him on the head. "Then it's still morning!" The figure at the door leaned past him, and Yuuris heart stopped. "Hello, Yuuri, Otabek! It's good to see you again! I'll be reading for Benedict today, so why don't we all come in and get settled!" Trying to quiet his heart, Yuuri followed Viktor Nikiforov and his other cast mates into the theatre.

 

The read through was almost entirely a disaster. Otabek, while he could deliver Claudio's betrayed monologue with a good amount of venom, way painfully shy when it came to the more romantic lines. Yuuri would have been offended, but he could tell Otabek was just out of his element playing a character that was so open. Claudio was besotted to the point of being hilarious, and it wasn't easy to be that vulnerable, even in character. That's why he had tried out for Hero. She had the barrier of being shy. That, and the fact that she had less lines than the other three leads by a big margin.  
Yuri had his own issues, surprisingly. He'd been getting role after role, so Yuuri wasn't surprised to see him here. But all of his insults came out more angry than teasing, like he really hated Viktor. From the way they acted in between lines, it was obvious he thought of Viktor like a very annoying older brother to him. The older actor didn't seem to be making it any better, teasing him every chance he got.  
"Yura~ am I pretty? Do you love me yet?" He sang. "You look like a dead horse." Yuri deadpanned.  
Viktor gasped in shock, but Yuri was grinning at Otabek, who had given a very quiet chuckle at the joke. Yuuri was watching them, trying to gauge the dynamic, when something warm draped itself across his lap.  
"Yuuri, do you see how mean they are to me? I'm the director, but nobody listens!"  
"You're only the assistant director, idiot! Don't get a big head about it!" Yuri spat. He was promptly ignored. Viktor flung a hand across his face, nearly elbowing Yuuri in the stomach, who had to put a hand over his mouth to stop laughing. Viktor Nikiforov, the gem in his theaters crown, was in his lap, /pouting/. If someone had told Yuuri this morning that this would happen, he would have shut the door in their face. Viktors pout slipped for just a second as he opened his eyes to look at Yuuris face, then it was back in full force. He grabbed at Yuuris wrists, gasping. "No! You're laughing at me too! I thought you were on my side! Be on my side, Yuuri, please, don't abandon me!" Viktor was practically sitting in Yuuris lap, now. It was taking everything he had not to scream. He did, however, laugh even more. Viktor with full puppy dog eyes was hilarious. He was totally suited for the over the top comedy of Benedict, clearly, if he was ready to make a fool of himself just over this. 

"Ok, ok, I'm on your side, director." He said between gasps for air, his face starting to hurt from how hard he was smiling. Victor crossed his arms like a child throwing a tantrum. "I'm only assistant director!" Yuri snorted. "Yeah, now he says it." Viktor acted like he didn't hear him. Again. "And if you're on my side, you have to call me Viktor!" Over his heart beating overtime in his ears, Yuuri heard a groan from the other side of the small chair circle. "Stop flirting with the pig, you gross dinosaur! You have a chair!"  
Viktor whipped his head around to glare at the other two, soft silver hair hitting Yuuri in the face. He took the few precious seconds that he wasn't distracted with a face full of his crush to try and catch his breath. He didn't even have the brain power to think about the flirting comment. None of this even felt real. It was like his whole brain was buffering.  
"I'll go back to my chair when he calls me Viktor!" He whirled back to Yuuri, looking at him expectantly, with a brilliant smile. "Well?" His brain crashed. As if Yuuri could ever say no to that smile in the first place.  
"Ok, I promise to call you Viktor if you go back to your chair and keep reading." Did his smile get brighter? Or was Yuuri imagining things. No, he wasn't that creative.  
It was only when Viktor got up to sit in his own chair that he realized he had instinctively grabbed Viktors hips. He was relatively certain his face was red as a fire engine now. 

There were some parts of the read through that went better than expected. During the scene where another character, Don Pedro, was supposed to be wooing Hero on behalf of Claudio, Viktor volunteered to read for the absent character. Yuuri saw the other two actors sharing a look, but couldn't tell what it meant. "Will you walk about with your friend?" Victor said in a low, kind voice. It was so different from his voice for Benedict, Yuuri almost missed a beat, but pulled himself together for his line. "So you walk softly and look sweetly and say nothing, I am yours for the walk; especially when I walk away."  
It sounded way too teasing for the character, and Yuuri was about to apologize when he saw Viktors eyes light up. "With me in your company?" Yuuri pretended to consider it, feeling braver. "I may say so, when I please."  
The scene went back and forth for a few more lines, and by the time it was over, they were both grinning at each other. Yuuri had no idea how he pulled that off, how his voice sounded so confident, how he /felt/ so confident just because Viktor looked at him like he was completely thrown for a loop. Yuri threw his head back and groaned for a solid 8 seconds before his chair started to tip dangerously back and Otabek had to plant a hand on his knee, snapping him back to the ground. Yuri squawked, and turned to him. Otabek shrugged. "Didn't want you to fall." Instead of the string of curses he expected, Yuri just stared at him for a full second. "Oh. Huh." And turned back to the group. Otabek moved his hand away, pretending nothing had happened. Yuuri chucked internally. Hopeless. 

They were a few minutes into their second snack break when Viktor strode into the room and clapped his hands loudly. "Alright! I've talked to the director, and he's given the ok for me to announce my decisions today!" Victor grinned brightly, but Yuuris stomach twisted into a knot. He'd already decided? And why announce it here? What was he playing at? "It was already pretty much confirmed, but I get the joy of playing Benedict!" Otabek gave a small polite round of applause, to which Viktor gave an elaborate bow. Yuuri joined in, quietly pleased. Viktor would make a great Benedict. His inner Phichit told him he was biased, and that he'd probably watch something if Viktor played tree number five. He was probably right. But Viktor really was a good fit. "The role of Claudio will be played by... Yuri Plisetsky!" Otabek continued his clapping, blank faced, showing no flicker of emotion for the lost roll. Yuri sputtered. "What! Are you fucking kidding me, Viktor? I was supposed to get a big role this season! Do you even know how hard I've been working-" Yuuri winced. While Claudio wasn't a minor character by a long run, he definitely wasn't Beatrice. Viktor barreled on cheerfully, raising his voice above Yuris swearing. "Hero goes to... Otabek Altin!" Yuuri could feel his heart sink past his shoes into the ground, but he offered Otabek a small congratulatory smile. Of all the people, he was probably the one who could get Yuri to play a convincing Claudio. Yuri definitely had it in him, Claudio had plenty of angry scenes, he just had to figure out how to be sweet, and a little lovesick. They would do well on stage if they could push their skills a little. In his head, he kept saying that, but it didn't fill the empty hole in his chest. "Yuuri Katsuki will be playing..." He felt tears grow behind his eye lids. Did he really have to say it out loud? Maybe he'd get thrown a bone in the form of a non speaking role, or even a couple of lines, but it was still embarrassing to hear- "Beatrice!"  
/what. WHAT./  
Yuuris head snapped up, trying to find the punch line, the joke, but Viktor just beamed down at him with that blinding smile. Otabek was clapping, Yuri was practically screaming, but all he could hear was his own heartbeat, as Viktor leaned in to help Yuuri out of his chair. "I guess we'd better get to know each other, right, Yuuri?" This was it. He could feel his soul leaving his body. Katsuki Yuuri died in the lobby of a blackbox theatre, with half a granola bar in a white knuckled grip, and Viktor Nikiforovs hand in the other.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He took a deep breath, and nodded. "...I trust you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aka the one with way too much crying for the second chapter.  
> I know the first chapter was pretty short, I'm not great at estimating word count, so I wanted to get chapter two out there asap. I spent a little less time editing this one, so there might be some errors I didn't catch.   
> There is also a lot of crying in this chapter, and a very anxious Yuuri. Stay safe!   
> Everyone in this chapter except Otabek is a dramatic little shit. Because the author is a dramatic little shit. There's also some of them speaking different languages, none of which I speak, unfortunately, so they might be totally wrong. Thai is really interesting, guys. Interesting and way complicated. Translations at the end of the chapter!

Yuuri was completely silent as he was lead back into the Blackbox. Viktor chattered the whole time.   
"We've just got the smaller blackbox for most of our rehearsal, but hopefully the main stage will be free again soon, anyways I just wanted to run through a few things before-"   
Yuuri stopped a few steps into the room. Viktor hadn't let go of his hand yet. He spun around to look at him, as if to ask why he stopped. 

"...Why?"   
Yuuri fixed his gaze on his shoes, trying to keep his voice steady. He could feel Viktor stepping closer.   
"Yuuri-" he said softly. "Why me?" Emotion sounded ugly in his throat.   
"You should know, as a director, that I don't have the confidence for Beatrice! I've never played a main role before! If this is a joke, I want you to tell me now so you don't have to waste everyone's time on this!"   
"I'm not trying to-"   
Yuuri tore his hand out of Viktors. 

"I know! That's the problem! You don't have to try. It's easy for you, to go out, and audition, and know you're going to get in. It's easy to talk to everyone like you know them, and make friends, and be funny all the time. It's easy to make fun of the shy kid who thinks he can act like you can, but he can't, because he's not as perfect as you are." 

He swiped a sleeve under his eyes, losing his nerve. "I- it's not fair, for the rest of us, so. If- if you could be more respectful of that. I'd appreciate it."   
His voice sounded small, even to his own ears. The sound of his quiet sobs echoed in the empty room for what felt like forever. Eventually, he felt fingers brush his cheek hesitantly. 

"Yuuri. I'm not trying to play a joke on you. I'm hurt that you think I would do that, but I'm sorry I ever made you feel that way." Yuuri looked up, only to find Viktor now staring at his shoes, looking more vulnerable than he'd ever seen him. "I... I know I seem confident. You're right, it's not usually... hard. To be on stage. I don't get nervous anymore, like some people do, though I can understand. But sometimes I wish I did. I care, about theatre. I should be nervous on stage. I should be exited. I should feel   
/something/. But lately it's- it's all been so-"   
Viktor looked at the ceiling, running a hand through his hair. Yuuri felt a dagger twist in his gut, seeing him try to hold back tears by biting his lip. He never thought he'd see Viktor like this off stage. 

"...Predictable, I guess. It feels like... like nothing surprises me anymore. Or maybe I can't surprise anyone? But today- you- earlier, during the read through, I was exited. Going back and forth with you was- тьфу, I've never been good with the- with the feelings- and-" Yuuri felt himself reaching for Viktors hand before he knew it. 

"It's ok. I'm sorry I snapped at you. I'm used to people poking fun at me for things like this, and I guess I just didn't think properly. I know you wouldn't spend theatre resources on a joke like this. I- I still don't really understand why you would want me to play Beatrice... but I think I want to try." Yuuri pulled Viktors hand close to his chest, and stared into his painfully blue eyes, summoning every speck of courage he had. "I want to surprise you again." If Yuuri thought his regular smile was blinding, this one should have killed him. 

 

Yuuri wasn't quite sure how they ended up sitting crosslegged on the ground in the middle of the blackbox, talking about poodles. Really, the whole day had been a bit of a blur. When Viktor had said something about 'building this confidence that he was so worried about', Yuuri though he meant some kind of humiliating exercise meant to smash his comfort zone to pieces. That was a wringer he'd been through before.   
But instead of that, Viktor had dropped down and patted the ground next to him, and started asking about his interests. His favorite book. His family. What foods he liked. Yuuri felt his voice grow steady as Viktor nodded along, laughing at his mediocre jokes, throwing in stories of his own. It took a while but eventually he built up the nerve to ask questions of his own. What was Viktors favorite role? How did he know Plisetsky? What did he think of this movie, or that show? When the subject of pets came up, it devolved into trading videos of their dogs, attempting to prove that they could out cute the other one.   
Viktor eventually declared it a tie, because really, every dog was the best dog. Yuuri told him he sounded like he was reading a manifesto, and Viktor got a dangerous glint in his eye, like someone just dared him to do something very stupid. 

A few minutes later as he lay on the floor, holding on to his ribs, shaking with laughter, he remembered too late the rules of theater kids. Everything could and would be taken as a challenge. Viktor was standing on several chairs, standing like a general on the battlefield. He had taken off his button down over shirt, and tied it to an umbrella leftover from the pile of props no one had time to put away. He was waving it like a flag, his tee shirt riding up over his hips every couple swings (and Yuuri was /not/ having a heart attack about it every time. Definitely not.)

He had invented some insane monologue about the joy and purity of dogs. It reminded Yuuri all too clearly that he had played Enjolras the last time they did les mis. 

Yuuri had never considered Viktor a comedic actor, necessarily. Sure, he'd seen him be funny on stage, but he always though of Viktor as someone who kept the dramatics for the actual shows, instead of bring them with him everywhere he went. Yuuri had been wrong about a lot of things today.

A loud bang to the door interrupted Viktor in the middle of a long adoring rant about toe beans. "Vitya! It's 4:30. We're leaving! What are you doing in there anyways-"   
the door swung open. It was probably a pretty weird image. Yuuri was lying on the floor with his glasses about a foot away from his face, dying of laughter. Victor held his makeshift flag above his head, with both feet on different chairs. Yuri froze in the doorway, his jaw open. After a moment he shook his head.   
"Вы оба настолько очевидны, что это отвратительно."   
Then he grabbed Otabeks hand and practically dragged him to the exit. Yuuri didn't know what he said but it sounded exasperated and almost... fond? For some inexplicable reason, Otabek gave them a thumbs up as he was lead away. 

Yuuri turned to Viktor for explanation, only to find him doubled over laughing at something. However, one of the chairs had apparently had enough of this, and decided to tip him over, and for the second time that day, Yuuri was met with an armful of russian.   
Yuuri started to ask if he was ok as soon as his breath was back, (Viktor landed on his stomach. Why did he have to be so... angular?) but Viktor just laughed, patting Yuuris chest. 

"Well, at least I landed on something soft." 

Yuuri felt his face flush. He knew he was on the bigger side, and remarks like that always threw him off. Hopefully he just meant softer than the floor... Viktor twisted awkwardly to look at his face, legs still trapped in the chair. He was still laying on Yuuris stomach. His eyes flickered around Yuuris face, like he was trying to read something.   
Eventually, he found what he was looking for. One hand patted Yuuri on the stomach approvingly.   
"Soft." Viktor looked so... proud? Happy? Something? Yuuri decided to shelve it for later when he could breath, and patted Viktor on the head, a lot less gently.   
"Heavy." "Oh! Sorry."   
He didn't sound all that sorry, but at least he moved. Viktor didn't seem to be in a rush to leave the theater, casually untying his shirt from the umbrella and gathering his things. Yuuri, on the other hand, couldn't leave fast enough. He made sure Viktor knew his email to send him the rehearsal schedule, and practically bolted out the door, script in hand.

He didn't head home just yet. It was an unspoken law of the universe that if Yuuri got in over his head, he could be found on his best friends couch. Phichit had ice cream. Phichit had small fuzzy animals. Phichit was usually the reason he was in over his head in the first place.   
He greeted Phichits parents in a small polite voice, wiping his feet on the mat. Phichits mother beamed at him from the kitchen. "Your Thai is improving, Yuuri! Phichit is upstairs, if you'd like to see him." Yuuri nodded, still uncomfortable being casual with his friends parents. This place was like a second home to him, and he wouldn't risk losing it. He plodded up the stairs, unwinding his scarf as he went.   
Phichit was sitting on the worn down couch in the living room, playing a game with a lollipop sticking out of his mouth.   
Yuuri didn't bother to announce himself, instead flopping down next to him with his legs over the side and his head in his friends lap. Phichit didn't tear his eyes off the screen. 

"...So how'd it go?"   
Yuuri put his hands over his face and let out a very expressive wordless scream. Phichit patted him on the head.   
"You got a part, then." Yuuri peaked at him between his fingers. "...How'd you know that?" 

"Because if it went badly the first thing you'd say is 'I told you so', but instead, you're panicking because now you've committed to something that you have doubts about."   
Yuuri stared at him. Phichit just grinned. "...you scare me, sometimes, you know that?"   
"Also Viktor posted the cast list to twitter, like, ten minutes ago."   
Yuuri threw a pillow at him. 

Phichit brought out a side in Yuuri that he liked to pretend didn't exist. He had privately dubbed him 'Whiny Oversharer Yuuri' and regular Yuuri hated him with a passion. Over a pint of cherry garcia, he was telling an abridged version of how the day had gone when Phichit butted in. 

"Holy shit. Yuuri, you had Viktor Nikiforov in your lap, TWICE? And you didn't kiss him? Or even, I don't know, flirt back a little?"   
Yuuri punched his arm, trying not to choke on his ice cream.   
"It wasn't flirting! He was just being dramatic the first time, and the second time he fell!" 

His friend snorted. "Yeah, fell for you."   
Yuuri made an embarrassed noise that sounded like someone trying to strangle a duck, flailing indignantly. 

"Yuuri, I'm serious! He's definitely flirting. Do you even remember the laws of theater?" 

Yuuri looked at him blankly. "Yeah. Don't touch props unless your supposed to, stop picking at the tape, don't say ma-" Phichit gasped. "Don't SAY it, Yuuri!" Yuuri shrugged, grabbing the carton back.   
"It only counts in a theatre and you know it."   
"All the worlds a stage, you know." Yuuri threw a piece of cherry at him. 

"But no, I meant the Phichit laws of theater." "Uh. If you get me decaf again I'm going to rip up this floorboard with my bare hands and shove it up y-" his friend waved his hand dismissively.   
"No, not that one. Although it is important and I'm glad at least /someone/ remembered it." Yuuri shook his head, chuckling.   
As if anyone in the tech crew could forget. 

Phichit was usually a very easygoing person, but as a stage manager things could get brutal. The last thing you wanted was for him to start the day in a bad mood, it almost guaranteed everything would get worse from there. 

Now, though, Phichit was his usual cheery self.   
"No, my sweet summer child, I'm talking about the one that if an actor..."   
Yuuri rolled his eyes.   
"Is flirting with you..." 

Yuuri groaned, flailing around on the couch while Phichit inserted another dramatic pause. 

"They are going to..."

"PHICHIT."   
"Make a fool of themselves to make you laugh. There, that wasn't so bad was it?"   
Yuuri picked his head up off the carpet from where he'd fallen on the floor, and gave Phichit a withering look. "Oh, there's my sweet boy." Phichit got hit in the face with a couch cushions.   
"That's just what actors do anyways. It's not like he did it for me, he just likes making people laugh." His voice didn't even sound convincing to himself. 

"I just don't wanna get my hopes up..."   
His hands were over his face again. He heard Phichit sigh, and move onto the floor next to him. He felt a hand card through his hair. 

"สบายๆ, Yuuri. You're alright."   
He felt himself start crying for the second time that day.   
"But I'm not! Phichit, I can't do this. I thought it would be okay to go for a slightly larger part, but there's no way I'm ready for Beatrice. There's no way!" Phichit gave him a second, still running his hands through his hair. 

"ใจเย็น ๆ. You alway sell yourself short! Viktor might do some crazy shit, but he isn't a total idiot. If he cast you as Beatrice, it's because he sees something in you as an actor. The fact that he totally wants to get into your pants is a separate issue."   
Phichit moved reflexively away as Yuuri moved to hit him again. "But seriously. You trust him as a director, right?" Yuuri nodded sullenly.   
"And you trust your favorite stage manager, right?" "How do you know you're my favorite? I know plenty of stage managers."   
Phichit stuck his tongue out, and Yuuri did it back out of habit. Phichit stuck a spoonful of ice cream on it.   
"...fair point." Yuuri mumbled.   
Phichit grinned at him.   
"So if we both think you can do it, you'll trust us and give it a shoot, right?" He knew his friend was teasing him, but he also heard the note of truth in his voice. 

Yuuri and Phichit had been in so many productions together, he couldn't imagine not trusting him. It was cheesy, but even cast mates that just met had to have some level of trust to preform well, if they were tech or actors alike. He still didn't think he could do it, but there was a tiny spark in his chest that said he wanted to prove himself wrong. Just this once. He took a deep breath, and nodded. "...I trust you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Russian:  
> тьфу - t'fu - ugh  
> Вы оба настолько очевидны, что это отвратительно - Vy oba nastol'ko ochevidny, chto eto otvratitel'no - You are both so obvious that its disgusting   
> Thai:  
> สบายๆ - S̄bāy« - literally means comfortable, or calm. something said to a person to calm them down when panicking.   
> ใจเย็น ๆ - Cıyĕn « - cool heart, or calm down


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri did not have a good week leading up to the first rehearsal. He really, really didn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry my boy ;-;
> 
> I meant to get this out yesterday, but APPARENTLY, CERTAIN FINGERS ON MY RIGHT HAND LIKE TO DELETE THINGS ACCIDENTALLY. They have been told that if they do that again, I will paint their nails in embarrassing colors and post pics on twitter with a caption about how they have failed me and everything I stand for.
> 
> Ok but really Yuuri has a Bad Time in this chapter. I had to write most of it twice just when I got sick of writing it so... I think I got meaner the second time. There's also definitely going to be some typos here because I kinda rushed and haven't had time to edit properly. ;-; 
> 
> I'm gonna have to add unreliable narrator as a tag because Yuuri is a Real Anxious Boy this chapter. I can't really blame him. I am also a Real Anxious Boy. Write what you know, folks.
> 
> Few notes at the end about how the script might be adapted, but its kinda just background and context I wanted to cover for folks wondering, so you might or might not want to read it, up to you. :>
> 
> Warning for a minor knife mention and a little bit of violence mention (There's a kinda graphic line in the script that I talk about, and a separate stage direction that's often included in adaptations.) Stay safe!

Yuuri marked the first real rehearsal on his calendar, and counted the days. A little under a week. He was not going in unprepared. It had been a long time since he read the play for the first time, or saw any of the film adaptations. Viktor mentioned they might start a read through with the larger cast, and the idea was terrifying. 

He liked being off book. He liked knowing what was expected of him, when, and how to do it. He didn't like guess work, and he definitely didn't like being caught off guard. Spacing out enough that someone had to tell him his line was next in front of a bunch of people during his first big role sounded like his worst nightmare. There were plenty of people Viktor could have picked to play Beatrice, and most of them would be there, watching, waiting for him to mess up. Every second he wasn't preparing was a second wasted. He didn't sleep well.

It started at breakfast the next day. Yuuri ate with one hand, and highlighted his lines with the other, whispering each of them to himself under his breath a few times before moving on.  
He hadn't payed a lot of attention to Beatrice's lines before, but now that he did, it only made him more nervous.  
She had a lot to say, almost none of it nice. Benedict hadn't even entered yet, and she was already insulting him. Yuuri felt like he would run out of highlighter before he ran out of lines. He got a new food stain on his script.

He kept reading on the bus, his marker behind his ear and the cap between his teeth. There was no way he would be able to say all this face to face with Viktor. There was a solid two pages of nothing but back and forth between them. He had to blow on them to dry the ink before turning. By the time the bus stopped, his fingers were covered in marker when he shoved the script back in his bag. 

When he got back to it, he was home, slumped over his desk near midnight. Paragraphs of yellow text swam before his eyes.  
/We must follow the leaders./ his marker ran across the line.  
/In every good thing./ Viktors voice echoed in his head.  
Next line was his again  
/Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them at the next turning./  
Yuuri snorted. He wished. Right now it felt like he was being lead right off a danm cliff. 

The next morning he woke up with his script stuck to his face only a few pages later. He smacked himself in the head with it, and because the world just really had it out for him recently, got a paper cut on his forehead. 

He hid his face in the pages during the bus ride. Mostly because he had a bandaid on his face and it made him look weird, but partly because he might be blushing. Was this flirting? Yuuri couldn't flirt. He didn't even know who was playing Don Pedro, but he was pretty sure he was supposed to be flirting with him. When he put his script back in his bag, he noticed it now had a blood stain on the top corner. 

He planned to keep working during study hall, but got caught on a stage direction that he really, really didn't want to see.  
/Ba. threatens Bn. with knife/  
Right. He could do that. He could threaten Viktor Nikiforov with a knife. And look like he meant it. He definitely looked like the kind of person who could stab a person like Viktor with a knife. He let his head fall to the desk with a quiet thunk, and stayed there for the rest of the period. 

He counted himself lucky that he reached page 78 at home, because now he was definitely blushing.  
/And, Benedict, love on; I will requite thee,  
Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand:  
If thou dost love, my kindness shall incite thee  
To bind our loves up in a holy band/  
The passage was great, but the lines stuck out like bright red warning lights. Why did he think he could play a romantic role? Viktor could read a shopping list and make someone fall in love with him. There was no way Yuuri could read something so mushy on stage. It read like a bad romance novel if you did it wrong, and Yuuri would definitely do it wrong.

 

He paced in his room the next morning. The script sat on his desk, taunting him. He could back out. He could email Viktor right now, and back out. It would be way easier than saying it in person. His thumb hovered over the email app on his phone. He texted Phichit instead.

After class, he was back on Phichits couch, this time with a highlighter and a scowl.  
"It's just so... violent. I don't know."  
Phichit hummed. "It's an amazing monologue if you can pull it off. You just need to step into the character more." Yuuri threw his hands up in exasperation.  
"I've tried! It's just... it's not me. I know that's the point but, there's usually, I don't know, something I relate to in a character. Eating hearts in marketplaces? This is just..." he tried to find the words in any language to express his feelings, but instead ended up making a bunch of weird hand motions and an exhausted "ehhhh..." noise.  
Phichit looked at him thoughtful for a minute. 

"Yuuri, list me things you would theoretically stab a man for."  
Yuuri glared at him.  
"If you don't do it, I'll start! Katsuki Yuuri would stab a man for a lock of Viktors hair when it was long, and- Yuuri, get out from under the sofa, you know I don't dust there."  
Yuuri grabbed Phichits leg like a monster from a horror movie and tried to pull him under. It didn't work. "Aw, come on out, hermit crab Yuuri."  
He could see Phichits face leaning over the edge of the couch. 

"...I'd stab someone for Vicchan." Phichit grinned. "Person or dog?" Yuuri made a pained noise.  
"Ok, ok, little hermit crab, no more Viktor jokes. What else?" Yuuri mumbled something.  
"Dude you're under the couch you're going to have to speak up."  
Yuuri pulled himself out onto the floor and curled up in a ball.  
"...Katsudon." Phichit stared at him.  
"Did I translate that wrong or did you tell me you would stab a man for a pork cutlet bowl?"  
"Wouldn't you like to know." Phichit sighed.

"Ok. I'll rephrase the question. Give me some  
/people/ you would theoretically stab a man for. And no, your dog doesn't count as people." "That's bullshit." Phichit gasped and pretended to clutch his pearls, putting on a high, wavery voice. "Language, young man!"

Yuuri chuckled, then went quiet for a minute, thinking.  
"...Mari. My parents. Yuuko and Takeshi... You."  
Yuuri wasn't looking at him, so he nearly jumped out of his skin when Phichit kissed the top of his head.  
"Flatterer." He could hear the smile in his voice. 

"Now. I want you to imagine one of those people fell in love. Hard. But the person they fell in love with is convinced they did something so terrible, it would get them ostracized for good, and you know that they would never do it, but there's no way to prove it. The person they love just said, very publicly, that they did that thing. And people believe it. What would you feel?" 

Yuuri hadn't even realized his eyes were closed until he opened them. "...shocked. Angry. Kind of... betrayed for the person? Like I want to yell at someone."  
"What would you say to the person that started all this?"  
Yuuri turned back to his friend.  
"That I'd eat his heart in the marketplace?"  
"Attaboy, Yuuri."

 

The next few days went better. Instead of trying to step into Beatrice's shoes, he brought her into his. Throughout the day he would think of what she would say to this or that, trying to figure out her motivations. It was good to think of her in normal day to day situations, instead of some brightly lit stage across from his crush. It made him feel like even though they reacted so differently, they still thought the same way about at least a few things.  
1\. Some people should mind their manners.  
2\. Beards are weird and scratchy  
3\. Dogs are better than romantic encounters (that one was a stretch but he still counted it  
4\. Some people are worth protecting

At the end of the week, he made it to rehearsal five minutes early. He had 17 new stains on his script, most of the top corner was ripped, and he still had that stupid bandaid on his forehead, but every single line he had was marked in bright yellow highlighter. Even the kissing scene. The marks were a little crooked, because he rushed though it so he didn't have to think too much.

When he came in, Viktor treated him to a sunny smile and a brand new script. Apparently, the last one had a typo on page three. 

The new script was unwrinkled, stainless, and had no comforting safety net of yellow marker.

Yuuri made an excuse to Viktor, locked himself in the bathroom, and promptly lost his shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've seen a good share of adaptations of the script, and I wanted to note that they are working with a modern setting, and the characters in the script are explicitly gay. There is never enough gay shakespeare. Traditional productions often have all male casts, because that's how it would have been preformed at the time. Since women were not allowed to act, they would be played by men who were thought to have more feminine features. The script our crew use probably has a lot of the original language, but is contextually more a bit modern, like the stage adaptation with Catherine Tate and David Tennant. (If you haven't seen them already, there's some amazing clips on youtube that might give you some idea of how I'm going to be writing Viktor. c; )  
> Tl;dr:  
> Its gay but I don't want to rewrite the entire script but I do want you to know that Viktor is directing a gay shakespeare adaptation. Because that's what I would do. And Viktor and I are the same person.  
> Speaking of Viktor, the next chapter is from his pov so... get ready for that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first rehearsal starts with Yuuri crying in a bathroom.  
> He's not surprised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! I'm so sorry about how long this took ;-; I had a hard time getting it right. I did intend to write this chapter from Viktors pov, but it got so exposition-y and honestly I'd rather split it into a different fic if I end up writing it, or at least put it in later in the fic. 
> 
> Warning for a description of a panic attack this chapter.  
> There's also a LOT of anxious/self deprecating Yuuri. He's very negative and I have way too much fun with unreliable narrators... oops.   
> Honestly I think he's a badass for doing everything he does in the show, and I hope that comes through in the fic! Being an anxious stage performer is mega hard, guys. He's doin his best, he just needs a little faith. And a nap, probably. 
> 
> I'm always too wordy on these, so I'll just let you read the chapter now. finally. gosh. this took me way too long to post I'm so sorry ;-:

Panicking in the bathroom stall at his first big rehearsal with Viktor definitely ranked in at least his top 5 worst moments of Yuuris life. He was crying over a script, of all things. Of course they were still editing. Plisetsky probably hadn't even opened his script yet. It was just a read through! It didn't matter to him when other people messed up, so why was he so afraid? 

Yuuri cradled his head in his hands, tearing at his hair. He felt frustration growing in his chest, like water boiling over, up into his throat and out his eyes. He was so weak. Being reminded of it hurt.

He couldn't tell how long he sat staring at the cork board ceiling, the same kind they had in his elementary school. But by the time he could fill his lungs properly, there was chatter from the lobby. He checked his phone. Only a few minutes till they started. If he was lucky, he could slip in the room with everyone else. 

He took a deep, steadying breath, and unlocked the door, flushing the toilet in case anyone was within hearing distance. He went through the motions of washing his hands methodically, taking the time to scrub the tears off his cheeks. When he looked up at the cheap mirror, his face gave nothing away. His eyes were passive and empty, his mouth in a relaxed straight line. He didn't look good, necessarily. He didn't look like anything. 

That was something he'd always appreciate about acting. It gave him a killer poker face. 

Yuuri followed the rest of the cast into the theatre, holding his new script. There was no point putting his name on it. He told himself it was because they were still editing, so what was the point, but in the back of his mind something told him it was because he wouldn't need it for long. It wasn't like he'd give himself another chance if it was him directing.

Not that he'd actually done anything to warrant a re cast. Yet. But it felt inevitable, if not today then soon. 

The group piled into the black box, taking seats in the large circle of chairs that took up most of the space. Yuuri listened numbly as Viktor explained that for today they would just forget warm ups in favor of getting the first read through over with as soon as they could. He appreciated that, to a degree. Less chances to make a fool of himself. 

He could feel everyone's eyes on him when he spoke. Some people he knew, most he didn't. It wouldn't do him any good to think about them now. All he had to do was get the line out with enough volume and not miss his queues. He kept his eyes fixed on the paper, but his back was straight and his chin was up. He'd been hard wired to sit like that, after spending hours working out the right way to breath on stage. He didn't want to look up, to see how bored or disgusted Viktor was, but he caught a glimpse after one of their exchanges. His lips were set in a tight line, and his eyebrows furrowed. Yuuri didn't want to think about what that meant, so he went back to staring at his script. 

The world narrowed down completely to not missing his lines. Not breathing too loud, not shifting in his seat, not doing anything to call attention to himself anymore than was necessary. With every syllable he said, his heart sank further. They didn't sound like they did in his head, like they should sound, like they'd sound if Viktor said them. Every line felt like a stab to the gut, knowing he could do better, but not here, today, in front of so many people. Maybe it was a good thing that he wouldn't get another chance. If he couldn't do it in front of the cast, how would he cope with a whole audience?

By the time rehearsal was over, they had only gotten through about 1/3 of the script. Yuuri was almost thankful they only got that far. At least he would get to quit before the real embarrassment started. Viktor had broken off from a group of actors as Yuuri gathered his things, and quietly asked him to stay behind so they could talk. 

Now, as he waited outside the blackbox, Yuuri felt his nerves returning. He had felt numb before, calm knowing that after this, he wouldn't be playing Beatrice. If he was lucky, he might get to be an ensemble member or a stage hand. But now, faced with the actual confrontation, he realized just how much he didn't want to let go. It wasn't something he thought would happen, but he had gotten the chance to star across from Viktor, and he blew it. He let his shoulders curl inwards, fiddling with his hands. Would Viktor mind if he ran out the door and never came back? 

He didn't get the chance to decide, because the blackbox was opening, and the last few actors were trickling outside. Viktor stood by the door, holding it open with one hand.  
"Yuuri. Come in."  
Yuuri dodged past him into the room, staring at his shoes. It took a minute for Viktor to speak, and every atom of his body was praying he'd just get on with it. 

"About your performance today-"   
"I'm sorry!" He blurted out awkwardly.

When Viktor didn't say anything, he looked up. He was staring at Yuuri with his jaw hanging open. Yuuri flinched, but kept speaking. It was better that he said it first. Viktor wouldn't have to feel bad that way. 

"I-It was stupid of me to do this. I'm sorry you thought you saw something that wasn't there during auditions. I understand if you want to recast." 

He shoved his script towards Viktor, who stared at it like it his brain had gone on vacation. After he didn't move for a full agonizing moment, Yuuri shook the paper lightly.   
"Um. You'll. You'll need this. So you don't have to print another one..."   
Viktor finally took the paper, still staring at it. Then he shook his head slowly and grinned, chuckling to himself. He looked up at Yuuri, eyes soft, and held the script back out. 

"Yuuri. This script is yours for as long as you want it. I wasn't going to change my mind over one off performance. Sure, you read like a robot today,   
but no ones at the top of their form during their first read! I thought since you looked like you were struggling I could give you some notes." Viktor grabbed his hand and wrapped it around the script, so they were both holding it. His eyes gleamed with something steely and exited, like the sky before a storm, and Yuuri couldn't bring himself to pull away.   
"I don't give up easily. You may not be as experienced as the rest of us, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve a chance. I've seen what you can do, and I'd bend over backwards to see you like that again."

Yuuris head was spinning. How could Viktor get all that from one audition? Their faces were terribly close, and Viktor still had his hand clasped around his, he had to hope he wasn't shaking.   
Instinct screamed to take a step back, to get out of this persons space, but his feet were frozen to the floor. He hadn't realized they'd been staring at each other till Viktor broke eye contact, hair falling in his face. He was looking at the script still crumpled between them, and Yuuris imagination placed a blush over his cheeks that he was sure wasn't really there.   
His voice sounded softer when he spoke, low in his throat, almost vulnerable. "So. I... Are you staying? You don't have to. I'd be happy to tutor you, but I'll understand if you say no. Either way, you have a place in this cast I you want it."  
Viktor was a good head taller than him, but with his head tucked nearly to his chest he managed to look up through his lashes. 

Yuuri was so gone. He'd been gone since day one. If Viktor had looked at him like that and asked him make pigs fly, he would have found a way. 

"I... yes. Yes, I am."  
Viktors face lit up like the sun rising over the horizon, a little at a time, and Yuuri wanted nothing more than to see it do that forever. 

God, he was so gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note; Yuuris experience is loosely based on my own! I've actually been in a semi professional production while juggling heavy anxiety. Its not easy, but don't let anyone tell you its impossible. I tried to write Yuuris anxiety more like it is in the show than how I experienced it during my time on stage, so I hope his motivations make sense for the character. Being the least experienced cast member is really tough, especially when you're already anxious. In my show, I had to come on stage after someone who actually made the audience CRY, and cried herself during one performance, and try to be funny. Yuuri has significantly more lines than I did, and isn't as comfortable with comedy, so he's going to have a rough time. Hopefully he can build up the confidence with a little help. I also hinted at a major plot point in this chapter but that's all I'm going to say because I think my foreshadowing was pretty heavy handed already :p If everything goes well, the next chapter will be up in a few days! Thank you all for being so patient. I'm not used to people actually reading things I write! The positivity so far has been mind blowing thank you so much!! :> I know my chapters are short, and I'll try to plan for longer ones in the future, but for now I'm going to put this one out and get to work on the next. If you're still reading this note bless your heart I'll get going now okAY BYE


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As he let the cold air hit him again, Yuuri realized something. He didn't dread the next rehearsal. His anxiety hadn't gone away. It never really did.   
> But now he felt prepared, motivated. This was something he could face. It always felt like climbing a mountain with no footholds, but for once he felt more excitement than fear.   
> For once he felt... brave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK MAJOR APOLOGIES FOR MAKING YOU WAIT my executive functioning skill is about as nonexistent as Viktors tact ;_; This chapter was again, shorter than intended... I don't know how people write so fast! Its amazing! Hopefully its a skill that I can build as I keep writing. I just have to remember to actually... do that. Oops. ANYWAYS HERE'S SOME DUMB MISCOMMUNICATION AND VAGUE PLOT MOVEMENT OH BOY! I am going to be working Viktors POV in here somehow... I really want to get into his head and his backstory and the differences between him and cannon Viktor, as well as his dumb internal monologue, which I have been keeping in mind as I write him. He's my favorite goofy gay so don't be surprised when I shoehorn in as many dumb moments with him as I can.   
> This chapter: Yuuris first one on one with Viktor! :O (why am I making a surprised face I wrote the damn thing)

Yuuri set out on the day of his first solo session with Viktor feeling strangely calm, though it might have had something to do with the fact that he was still half asleep. They had agreed to meet early, before classes started, so neither of them would have to worry about being late. A cold snap had hit the city, despite it being still early in the fall, and he appreciated the sting of the air on his face after so much muggy, humid weather. He liked living at the onsen, but not when the weather outside matched it.

On his walk to the theatre, he tried not to think too much about his mood, instead watching his breath curl away from him, barely visible in the morning air. Good moods could be fragile, and he refused to ruin this one by overthinking it. Far too soon, he reached the black box building and buzzed himself in. Coming here so early would have made him anxious a couple years ago, but now it was practically routine.   
He had always been happy to sacrifice sleep to work on costumes, set pieces, or even administrative work. Sometimes, when his fingers itched to do rather than think but no shows were running, he would come in and just clean things. Dust collected fairly quickly, and floor tape always needed replacing. Not to mention the absolute mess that was props and costumes.   
Minako had convinced one of the professional directors, Celestino, to give him a spare key a while ago despite only being a part time worker, but it felt wrong to use it now. This was different. This was Viktor.   
The buzzer rang out, and he pulled the glass door open before it locked again, taking one last lungful of cold air.   
His nerves started the familiar dance of teetering on the edge of fear and excitement. This was Viktor. Viktor, who had agreed to coach him. Who got up early despite being assistant director *and* playing Benedict just because he thought Yuuri could pull this off. Viktor Nikiforov, who looked at Yuuri like he was something amazing and told him he believed in him.   
That had actually happened.

"Holy shit." Yuuri muttered under his breath in awe. 

Then he took another deep breath, rolled his shoulders back firmly, and slapped his face. "Okay. Yes. Yup... stop talking to yourself." He shook his head like a wet dog, and stomped up the concrete stairs. 

 

In the lobby, Viktor sat, head buried in a script. His legs where propped up on a table, which made Yuuris internal stage hand grumble, despite the fact that Viktors legs were so long that his feet dangled off the end, shoes not actually touching the table. At the sound of the door opening, his head whipped up. 

"Ah! Yuuri!" He said brightly, and proceeded to nearly knock a bottle of water off the table as he hurried to get his feet on the floor.   
Yuuri, no stranger to incoming disasters, managed to catch it before it hit the ground by preforming a half dive half stumble to the edge of the table, clunking his head on the table leg and probably skinning his knee. It was only after he caught it that he realized the cap was still on. Years of instinct always backfired when he least expected, and in the worst way possible, especially when Viktor was involved.

His cheeks heated and he looked up to apologize for the useless gesture, but Viktor cut him off.   
"Wow! Yuuri, that was amazing!"   
Yuuri shrugged, stumbling to his feet and putting the water bottle back on the table.   
"I-it was just instinct, and the cap was still on so..."   
Viktor clapped his hands again "But you looked so cool! Like a rock star! And if it had been a soda or something you would have saved the carpet."   
Yuuri just shrugged, feeling overwhelmed by the compliments.   
"I guess?"   
He fiddled with the buttons on his coat, and waited for Viktor to do something. The silence was awkward, but if he opened his mouth it would just make things worse. Viktor, as usual, just took it in stride.   
"Are you ready to get started? I wasn't sure if you'd had time for breakfast, so I grabbed us some bagels. I don't know what you like to eat so you don't have to-"   
He was interrupted by Yuuris stomach growling.   
Yuuri blushed. Viktor grinned. There had been a lot of that lately. 

 

They sat together in the studio with their food.(Yuuri had reminded him they shouldn't technically be doing that, but Viktors response was to say "I won't tell if you don't." and wink at him and Yuuri may have forgotten how breathing worked for a second.) 

He concentrated on spreading cream cheese evenly on his bagel, and Viktor talked. Mostly about nonsense things, his dog, the shop he bought the bagels at, would it rain later, and so on.   
He talked with his hands a lot. Yuuri hadn't noticed that before. On stage every movement looked articulated, purposeful, but in person he was a whirlwind of half hazard self expression. If someone had told him before now that Viktor Nikiforov was careless enough to get raspberry jam on his nose and not notice it for a good 12 minutes, he would have thought they were crazy.   
And yet, here was the reality, and Viktor still hadn't noticed, wrapped up in a story about the theaters electrical problems. Yuuri felt his face quirk into a half frown. 

"Yakov was worried about using gorilla tape on the floors at first but-" "Hold still." 

To both of their surprise, Viktor actually did. He reached up with a napkin, vision narrowing down to the thing he needed to fix, and briskly rid Viktors nose of any offending sandwich spreads. Once his arm retreated and he could see the confusion on Viktors face, he cursed his own impulses.   
"You- I- uh... You had. That is... sorry. Um. Jam. On your nose... sorry." His voice trailed off. When Viktor spoke again, his voice was amused.   
"What would I do without you, Yuuri?" 

Yuuri looked up at him, thoughts rapidly devolving into a panicked whirlwind. He was joking. It was a joke! A friendly joke between friendly friends- were they friends? A coworkerly joke between coworkerly coworkers, then. Nothing more than that. 

So why was his heart beating so fast? Why did Viktor have to sound so honest? He was an actor, a *good* actor, he could sound like anything he wanted. Why couldn't he would like something that made less of a mess of Yuuris insides. Like a duck. Or Yakov. Or anything that wasn't Viktor.   
Yuuri shrugged belatedly, and coughed, hoping Viktor didn't notice his internal crisis. He didn't seem bothered by it, packing up the breakfast things and sweeping any crumbs into a neat pile on a napkin. (The reason he got away with breaking so many rules. He was just as, if not more invested in the theatre than anyone else.) 

Viktor pulled out his copy of the script, and gestured for Yuuri to do the same. He did, reluctantly, and copied the way Viktor placed his face down on the floor in front of him. 

"So." Viktor said, sounding serious. "What did they do?" 

Yuuri wished someone would give him a roadmap of Viktors brain.   
"What?"   
"Clearly, someone in the full read through upset you so much that you didn't feel comfortable doing your best. Was it Chris? I swore I double checked that you weren't exes but Chris goes on a lot of dates and my memory's not so-" 

Yuuri waved his hands frantically, face getting redder by the second.   
"N-no! I've never dated- uh. I've never dated Chris. O-or anyone else- in the cast, I mean. T-that's not it." Smooth, Katsuki. Real smooth. Good job almost spilling the beans that you haven't so much as been on a date to your crush, who is also your director, and your co star, and will obviously expect you to know at least the first thing about relationships since you're 18 years old already and signed up for a romantic role, you absolute wad of tissue paper.   
Viktor decided to keep being confusing, clapping his hands together lightly as he spoke.   
"Good! ...Because then Chris would have lied to me and then I would have to be upset with him, that's why."   
Yuuri barely registered that Viktor had answered a question he didn't ask, because Viktor was continuing his pattern of reading Yuuri completely wrong.   
"Well, if it wasn't Chris, who was it? The only difference I can think of between the audition and the read through is the amount of people so if-"   
"I'm sorry. That- that wasn't the problem. Please, don't blame any other cast members for my mistake." Yuuri did his best to keep polite eye contact, but ended up staring at the script in front of him.  
"I was nervous about missing a line and making everyone upset, so I highlighted all my lines on my script as a backup plan. It was stupid of me to think there wouldn't be new copies, but I kind of lost my head a little when I found out. I spent all my time trying not to miss my lines and I ended up not inflecting at all, it's my fault for being so worked up about it... I guess I was scared to put myself out there when so many talented people were watching."   
*when you were watching* his brain wanted to say. *I wanted to be good because you were watching. And I'd do anything to keep you watching.*   
But he didn't say that, because he was still clinging to the tattered scrap of his pride like a stubborn tree with its last leaf.   
Viktor blinked at him. Once. Twice. Then cocked his head to one side, and thought for a second. Finally, after opening his mouth to speak then closing it again several times, he perked up so suddenly the Yuuri almost jumped out of his skin.   
"GOT IT! I'll just highlight your lines on the computer and print your copy in color! That way, I can still make edits, and you don't have to go to all that trouble every time we have a new script!" 

Something in Yuuris chest tightened. "You really don't have to do that... I don't mind." 

"Nonsense! I want you to be your best and if that's what it takes, then I'm happy to do it. I want you to be comfortable here, and as your director it's my job to make that happen." 

Yuuri exhaled sharply, trying to figure out where his anger was coming from. It wasn't like he asked Viktor to do all this for him.   
"You don't need to go easy on me. I might not be the best fit for this, but I knew what I signed up for. If I mess up it's on me. I know I'm weak, but that shouldn't be your problem. I- Please, don't treat me any differently from the other actors." Viktors eyes widened. "Yuuri, you're not weak. I don't know how anyone would think that. I want you to be on equal footing with everyone as much as possible. If anyone in the cast was having trouble, I'd do the same for them." Viktor looked down at his hands, looking strangely insecure, but his voice was fierce with conviction.   
"Just because you have difficulty with something others see as small doesn't mean you don't deserve help. I know you could succeed on your own but you don't have to. That's what cast-mates are for, right? You don't have to do it all alone." 

Yuuris head was spinning with a mix emotions that he couldn't really quantify. It was such a simple thing, of course cast mates supported each other, but it felt... wrong to receive that support, somehow.   
In the moment he just nodded dumbly, not really knowing what he was agreeing to. Whatever it was, it made Viktor smile, the big happy puppy smile. Looking at that smile from a distance had felt heartwarming, but knowing he was the reason it happened... the entire room just narrowed down to his smile, and the glowing, prideful feeling in Yuuris stomach. 

'Katsuki Yuuri. Age 18. Cause of death: too gay. He will haunt this theatre for the rest of his days, putting props back where they should be and cursing anyone with their phones on during performances. Some say if you go to the back of the props closet on a night Viktor Nikiforov is preforming you can still hear his stupid internal monol-' "Yuuri? Are you alright? You looked like you were trying to stab a hole through your script with just your mind." 

Yuuri snapped back to reality, where he had in fact been staring at his script like it killed his family. He gave Viktor a sheepish look "I'm sorry... I spaced out for a second. Do you mind repeating yourself?"   
Viktor laughed. He had nice teeth, because of course he fucking did.   
"It's no problem! I just asked you if you wanted to get started. We've got a bit of time left, and I want to hear your thoughts on Beatrice. How do you read her?" Yuuri shrank in on himself, embarrassed by Viktors intense look.   
Talking about the script was more than doable, so he took a deep breath and began. "It... might be a little nerdy, but I've seen a lot of productions of this play. Everyone sees her very differently, but there's a few similarities I've noticed..."   
At Viktors encouraging nod, he continued.   
"She always seems very carefree, like she's happy where she is. She's prideful, but she doesn't care if people like her or not, because people usually do anyways ...I guess those stuck out to me the most because they just aren't true of me. It highlights how different we are..."   
"Perfect!"   
Viktor clapped his hands again.   
(why did he do that so much?) 

"That's our chance to bring something new and fresh to the character! What would it be like to bring more of yourself into the character? How would that change your interpretation?" 

Despite himself, Yuuri felt a rush of creative energy. Viktor was contagious when he brainstormed,   
a wild and unstoppable force of script pages, craft supplies, and constructive criticism. 

During a particularly exiting project for him, Yuuri and the other stage hands started calling themselves Yes Viktors, because that was the only word you could get in edgewise until he ran out of the room shouting something about mason jars and glow sticks. Even having been through that, Yuuri was startled. 

He wasn't listening to Viktor brainstorm, he was brainstorming /with/ Viktor. 

He gathered up his tentative thoughts of a less relaxed Beatrice, suit as sharp as his tongue, taking a break from climbing the corporate ladder to visit his dear adopted cousin. He was never the center of the show, a witty, dry character, who thrived in taking down the verbose Benedict with a short, deadpan jab and a subtle smirk. Still, he was prideful, a little stuck up, and saw Benedict as shallow and fickle, unable to admit when he was wrong. Together, they went through the script, flicking around to the scenes their characters interacted, talking about motivation. 

Yuuri had to admit, it was much easier just to talk about his interpretation. Viktor would add in with his ideas for Benedict, matching Yuuri step for step. It helped that the masquerade scene was going to be a modern party, with both their characters getting hilariously drunk. That way Yuuri could play Beatrice as a little stuffier in other scenes, and they could throw in some physical comedy with goofy hungover antics in the next scene.   
It worried him a little, but Viktor insisted that he had already approached the school board about it.   
"It's not like we'll actually be drunk. Unless you know a guy."

It took Yuuri a full 10 seconds to figure out he was joking. 

They had to clear out soon, Yuuri to an actual classroom and Viktor to his job at the theater.   
He'd surprised everyone by taking a gap year to work as a junior director, since it was obvious, at least to Yuuri, that he was destined for more than community theater. 

It wasn't just something you could casually ask about, though. You couldn't just say 'Hey, noticed you're not in New York living your destiny whats up with that'.  
That wasn't important, though, not really.  
The important part was that as they left the room, Viktor looked happy. Really happy.   
This year off was probably doing good things, then. He always looked so... stressed. Far away. That seemed mostly gone now, albeit not entirely.

As he let the cold air hit him again, Yuuri realized something. He didn't dread the next rehearsal. His anxiety hadn't gone away. It never really did.   
But now he felt prepared, motivated. This was something he could face. It always felt like climbing a mountain with no footholds, but for once he felt more excitement than fear. For once he felt... brave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Weird theater kid bonding rituals, Benidictus, and an uncomfortable amount of eye contact. Also Phichit is there. Being his beautiful self. His beautiful, protective self.


End file.
